


EMF

by IzumiLover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Heart Disease, Heartbeats, Hearts, Medical Conditions, Pediatrics, Sick!Dean, electromagnetic science, pseudo-sience, supernatural sickness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzumiLover/pseuds/IzumiLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean investigate the possible relation between the spirit of a dead girl and some heart attacks in children. Also, Dean will be in trouble after the little ghost girl stablish a curious conection with his heart --in a literal sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Everything's going to be super-okay.”

Doctor James Foxter smiled tenderly to her daughter. She smiled back at him, a tooth missing, something usual in 7 year old kids like her.

“I know, daddy. I'm not scared”, she said. “Know why? Because you promised”

The little girl gripped two fingers of his dad with her right hand, the IV already in place. Even if she had been seriously ill half of her short lifespan, Ellie never lost joy, neither hope. She was the one who gave him hope, not the other way around. She was the one who was going to be operated, but he was the one scared.

“Mom would be proud” he said, struggking to hold tears back; Ellie couldn't see him like that. He had promised her everything was going to be right. Super. “See you in a few hours, right?”

“Right”

He leaned over the operating table to put a kiss on her forehead, putting a golden lock back into the cap. Ellie barely smiled, dozy. The first aneasthesics dose was already kicking in. While a nurse helped him to put his gloves on, he heard the anaesthesist reciting the readings from the machines.

They were ready.

James Foxter took a deep breath in and lift the mask up to his face.

 

“James?”

Several hours later, somebody was knocking at his office. He couldn't recognize the voice. He didn't care. He didn't care anymore.

He still hasn't got rid of his scrubs and robes. His whole body shoke with his sobs, his face was a puddle of sweat and tears. He was the living image of despair itself.

“James, please! Open the door! It wasn't your fault, you knew it could end like that...”

He recalled he had left the operating room to collapse on his knees in the corridor, deserted at that time of night. The next thing he could remember was being sat down on his office's carpet, back leaning on his desk. It had to be a nightmare. Or at least, it seemed as irreal as one. But pain was real. It gnawed at his entrils, it didn't let him breathe.

“James, please!”

She didn't feel any pain, Dr. Foxter. She left peacefully, the nurse had said, the same one who helped him to put his gloves on, while the crew switched off the monitors and the deafening flatline tone stopped filling the operating room.

Gone.

She was gone. Now, he was alone. But the worst thing was that he failed her. He failed her only daughter.

The knocking at the door intensified. James Foxter raised the gun. It trembled in his hand when the end of the barrel dig into his scrubs, just over the heart. He felt it hammering madly against the cold steel, like if it were trying to run away from what was going to happen. Blood rushed and thumped in his ears, all over his body. That's not fair, he said to himself, the heart of my little girl won't beat anymore. and it's my fault. I couldn't save her.

The doctor raised his gaze to the ceiling, to heaven. Tears ran down his cheeks. He closed his eyes.

“I promised you, my dear” he sobbed. “I promised you... and I failed you”

He shot.


	2. The Candy Bar Boy

_A month later_

Sam Winchester let out a sigh.

That was going to take a long time; the queue at the bakery was long enough as to reach the door. His older brother waved a hand joyfully at him from the car, raising his thumb next. Sam fakely smiled back at him and turned his head so his brother couldn't see his exasperated gesture.

Dean has had the “wonderful” idea to ride hundreds of miles to taste the best cranberry pie of the state, but his 'little affair' with justice -they would never believe why he was innocent, because of course shapeshifters didn't exist to normal people- didn't allow him to leave the car. They had no better things to do, honestly. They haven't had a damn clue in days on the whereabouts of the evil being they were hunting and newspapers only reported news about murder, accidents or robbery; the boring, usual deaths. Nothing in which they could help.

It was on the newspapers where Dean had found about that hella-good cranberry pie, “It's just three hundred miles away, Sam! Will be there at time for afternoon coffe” he said eagerly “They only make it once a year, to celebrate the day the bakery was founded- That sounds so good! Sammy, please!”

Sam knew those hedonistic moments hide something darker, something probably Dean didn't want to talk about- and he was in no mood to have an argument, either. After all, they had lost his father in strange circumstances, maybe killed by the very same evil being who burned their mother 23 years ago- and they were lucky to had come out alive from their last encounter.

Some people said justice, others, revenge. But the only thing they had left was to chase and kill the demonic being who had killed their family. That was the only thought who made them get up from the cheap motels beds every morning, to take the long road across the country in a black and shiny Chevy Impala from 67. There was also that stuff about saving people and hunting things, of course. The family business.

There were high chances Sam Winchester was the most patient person in the world -you sure did if you had his hell of a life or you had to cope with Dean sometimes-, but even him was starting to feel fed up. Two girls looked at him out of the corner of their eyes, giggling like the schoolgirls they were. In front of Sam, a boy was begging for a candy bar. Even two, so he could save one for later, he told his mother. She was talking to an acquiatance of hers, ignoring how his son jerked her blouse. “Yeah, every year I come to enjoy a slice of this pie- Yeah Aidan, honey, wait, I'm talking to Mrs. Thompson- Oh, she did? Who could tell, she looked like such a well respected woman”

  
Everything were smiles at the counter while customers were ready to bring home their delicious pie in a package. In the car, Dean was starting to get impatient. He was doing gestures to his brother like if he were asking him to cut queue “I'm not doing that!” Sam gestured, and Dean mocked at him.

It was then when the boy of the candy bar looked like he had forgotten about it. He was looking at something outside, in the street. His mother didn't see him go out. Neither Sam. He was arguing with his brother again in gestures.

Some minutes later, the candy bar boy's mother was picking up his slice of pie. Sam felt relieved when he realized it was his turn _-this is so ridiculous_ , he thought. He didn't bother wait in a queue, the problem was his brother. He got on his nerves sometimes- and it was especially annoying in front of the schoolgirls.

Then he heard the screams.

Everybody turned to the large window, and the candy bar boy's mother realized his son wasn't there.

“Where s Aidan? Aidan?”

“Call an ambulance!”

Sam recognized that voice; it was Dean's. He run out from the bakery - _no pie this time, Dean_ \- and came across a group of kids who screamed as they ran, scared. Sam saw people forming a circle in the middle of the small square, though the voices made impossible to discern what was happening. His brother's deep voice came over the other ones; he was in the middle of the circle.

“Get back, let him breathe! Come on, go away!”

Sam made his way onto where Dean was trying to reanimate a small kid. The one who was in the bakery asking for a candy bar.

Dean looked distressed and worried. “Damn, no-no-” he heard him mutter while he got rid of his leather jacket. Sam thought the worse, and he nailed it. The horrified mother arrived some seconds later; he had to hold her so she could not rush to Dean and his son while his brother tried that the kid's heart would beat again.

Dean did compressions, panting, blowing air into the kid's mouth; his forehead was already covered in sweat. Sam could heard him cursing, words really hard to discern between gasps and pants, and the desperate cries of the mother in his grip.

Ignoring the cramps he was starting to feel in his arms, Dean raised his head for a second, gasping for breath. It all happened in less than a heartbeat. He saw a girl among the forest of legs. She was 7 or 8 years old and she was wearing a violet dress. Hair, golden and dull, covered her shoulders.

Suddenly, the boy's body jerked with a coughing fit. Dean felt a wave of dizzyness striking him, half relief and half exhaustion. He had brought him back. He did it. _It was too soon for you, Aidan, you still have to beg your mother for a weekly wage,_  he thought. He lift him carefully to sit up and covered him with his jacket, his tired gasps mixing with the kid's, who was trying to breath normally again.

Sam heard sirens and he started to feel anxious. They couldn't risk it, they had to leave that place before the police saw them. He let the mother go, who went to her son, sobbing. Dean let her hug him and leaned forward, still trying to catch his breath.

“Aidan, God, you're okay-”

Dean took some seconds before he stood up, hands in his knees. He was going to have terrible cramps in his arms the next day. The woman looked at him, all gratitude, some wet hair in her face. The kid still seemed to be confused, but he was breathing normally.

“Thank you. You saved my son.”

Dean smiled to her. Sirens were drawing nearer. He only needed to meet Sam's eyes to know they had to leave, and quickly. He left the circle followed by his brother, ignoring another sudden strike of dizzyness and swaying among crowds of people to reach the car. The mother was too focused in his son to realize Dean's jacket was still wrapping him. Neither the brothers realized.

“He will be okay, I suposse” Dean told his brother when they were in the car “We better go, I think we've already have draw enough attention -at least me!”

He got into the car on the passenger seat side and let himself fall there with a sigh. Sam looked at him from outisde, speechless; he had literally closed the door in his face. Dean threw the car keys at him before he could say a thing about that sudden change of mind.

“Drive.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah, I'm serious. I'm feeling weird and I prefer you drive before we crash and die, isn't that weird, is it? Though you'll die anyway if you harm my Baby.”

“Okay okay”, Sam laughed, “But you know- driver picks the music, so-”

Dean was too exhausted to complain. He reclined, eyes closed. Before getting keys into engine, Sam looked at him.

“Dean you- you saved that boy.”

“Yeah. And I feel like I killed a vampire high in anabolics- and no pie.”

Sam smiled.

Some minutes later they have left sirens behind enough to feel safe. Dean saw her in the moment his brother hit the break at a traffic lights. She was in a bench, near the car.

The girl in the violet dress.

She was not alone, there was an old man reading the newspaper beside her. Dean thought it could be her grandfather. She may had sneaked out when she heard the screams. The old man was too focused in his newspaper that Dean wondered if he had realized her grandaugther had left for some minutes.

The girl's eyes met his. She smiled. She had one tooth missing.

Dean's heart gave a jolt, so sudden his breath hitched. It was like if something had gave him a kick from inside his ribcage. He put a hand in his chest, startled. Traffic lights switched and the Impala's engine roar hide his sudden coughing fit.

“Hey, Dean. It's weird, a little boy having a heart attack all of a sudden” Sam said, his eyes in the road “He must be ill- in that case I suposse his mother would have always keep an eye on him, but he left the bakery and she barely noticed it... Dean?”

Sam looked at his brother. He first thought he was tired, but he soon knew something was wrong. Very wrong. Dean was clutching at his chest, near the heart, and he looked like he couldn't breath.

“Dean! Dean, what's wrong?”

“Sam-” he panted “Help me, I- I can't-”

Sam hit the brake, making the car jerk upwards. Dean could hear him shouting, calling his name, before darkness fell over him.


	3. Missing a Beat

  
  


To Sam's huge relief, Dean was absolutely awake when he got to the Observation Room. That was a good thing.

He spotted his brother through the huge window glass, reclined in one of those big hospital beds. Wires were poking out above his crossed arms, reaching to the monitor which registered his vital signs. His gaze was lost somewhere at the end of the bed, like if he were deep in thought- or more like if he were a bored, pouting kid. That was a good thing, also.

Sam entered the room and got near him, walking slowly, hands in his pockets in a nervous manner. Even if he faced the stuff of nightmares day after day, he couldn't get used to see his brother in an hospital bed. It wasn't something he had under his control, and that scared him.

And it also made him feel useless.

“Hey” he said.

Grumpy, Dean didn't even look at him.

“Doctor said panic attack.”

“Yeah, she told me so.” Sam straddled a near chair. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I do now. Smooth as hell.” Arms still crossed, he finally looked at his brother. “But that Doctor is wrong. She said it was because of the shock, because that boy was about to die in my arms- blah-blah-blah” he snorted “The shock, she said! Obviously she doesn't know a thing 'bout our line of work.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“I can recognize a friggin' panic attack, Sammy. That wasn't one”.

“You've suffered them before, then, if you can recognize one” Sam concluded, mocking at his brother's cocky manners.

“With the things we see... the weird thing would be not suffering them” Dean snorted again. “We've already had quite a few close calls this year, like... Fourteen? Fifteen?”

Sam shrugged.

“Lost count months ago”

Dean sat up, thoughtful again.

“Hey, Sam, you know when they say-- your heart misses a beat?” he started saying “Well, it was something like that, but-- like--” he puffed and shook his head and arms, finding it difficult to explain. “--like a thousand times worse. It just became totally crazy, it wasn't pounding hard, like in a panic attack. It was more like-- a fluttering. A _shudder_. It'd would look like an earthquake there, I'm sure” he pointed at the heart monitor, amused.

“Wait, wait-- you mean, like a ventricular fibrilation?”

Dean scowled at him, puzzled.

“A _what_ -?... Law student, you said, yeah...”

“We had a medical student in our group. A few beers and he would tell out loud a list of diseases and conditions, symptoms included.”

“Now that's what I call to have fun studying.”

“But... Dean, that's not really possible” Sam said, standing up from the chair. “You've always had a healthy heart, well, specially after that-- _miracle_ cure” he pointed, recalling that case about a faith-healer and a reaper “And after you woke up from that coma, all tests results were great. You are healthy. Even with all the junk food you eat everyday” Dean rose an eyebrow, proud of himself. Sam ignored it. “I mean, why now? Why hadn't you had symptoms before?”

“Well, maybe that's because it's not the vont-- ventro-- that thing you said. But it wasn't a panic attack, either, I'm damn sure it wasn't” he rushed to add, raising a finger.

“Well, we've been under a lot of shitty stuff lately--”

“Saaaam...”

“Okay, okay--” Sam concluded, amused “Not a panic attack. I trust you. What, then? Any clues?”

Dean shrugged.

“The foggiest. That's why I'm here, I suposse. Now be a good brother and bring me that pie, this' going to take long I'm sure” he added nonchalantly, making himself comfortable.

“Dean, I think you should take this as a call to eat healthy from now on” Sam adviced, “Also, I don't think they allow you to have pie until they know what's wrong.”

Dean looked at him, gravely offended.

“Well, hide it, then! I'm starving!”

 

Sam raised his hands and shook his head, like a mother who had ran of patience. He left the room.

It was at the end of the corridor when Sam saw her, out of the corner of his eye, through a door he left behind. The mother of the kid Dean had saved. The youngest of the Winchesters took some steps back until he came near that room The woman was sitting at a chair, near the bed in which his son seemed to be asleep, taking his hand. She raised her head to the door, aware of Sam's presence. Her eyes were slightly red, but anguish had faded away.

“Hey!” she said in a quiet voice, moving her head in a friendly manner “You are the boy who helped me in the square, aren't you?”

Sam smiled and approached to shake her hand.

“Yes, it's me. My name is Sam. That's a happy coincidence... I'm glad your son is fine.”

She nodded.

“Lucy Summers. Yes, he is fine, thanks to that young man. He left so quickly he forgot this” he added, pointing at something hanging at other chair. It was Dean's jacket. “I wish I could give it back to him.”

“Well- I can do that. He's my brother” Sam said. “He's under observation, that's why I'm here.”

Her initial surprise faded after Sam finished talking.

“Oh, God, I'm sorry, is he fine? It was due to--?” she looked at her son.

“Oh, no no, it's okay. I'm sure he is fine. He just fainted, but they want to be sure.”

“Oh, I'm glad to hear that. Your brother was really brave, Sam. If it wasn't for him, my son--”

“The important thing is that your son is fine” Sam reassured. But an idea refused to leave his head. First, the boy suffered a heart attack. Then, his brother collapsed due to a possible serious arryhtmia. That was too much to be a coincidence. “Ms Summers... Your son, did he had a heart condition? Do the doctors know what happened?”

She moved her head, silently.

“Doctors haven't found anything. They are doing more tests later, but-- any of this makes sense to them. Aidan has never had heart problems. I suposse that's a good thing, if they haven't find anything, probably it won't happen again” she smiled, though nervously.

When Sam was back in Dean's room some minutes later, the doctor was with his brother. He was telling her what he had described to Sam earlier, and it seemed that she was finally convinced it wasn't a “frigging panic attack”. Sam supossed the doctor was thinking the same he did: two heart alerts in less than half an hour, that was something usual at a hospital, but the fact they had dissapeared as quickly as they came, it wasn't that usual.

“We can't find anything abnormal, your heart seems to be perfectly healthy, but we would need more tests to try to detect the problem. I want you to spend this night under observation, and early tomorrow we will perform more tests. That sensation you described, it could be a serious arrhytmia, and I want to be sure. We will find it. Now try to have some rest.”

She smiled at them while she left. Dean didn't change his fake smile until she left and he was sure she couldn't hear him:

“Where's the pie?”

“I found the boy you saved” Sam said, ignoring him; luckily enough, what he had to say could make his brother forget about food for a while. “This is yours”

He throw his jacket to him. Dean remained silent for a while, concerned.

“How's the boy?”

“Perfectly healthy” his brother said, back to straddle the chair “He's only sleeping. Doctors said it's like he hadn't suffered a heart attack. More or less the same they've said to you now.”

“He isn't sick, then? Not a reason why his heart stopped?”

Nothing. They have to do more tests, but right now all diseases which could trigger a heart attack, negative.”

“How do you came to know so much, did you introduced her as a doctor?”

Sam smiled.

“Nop, she remembered me from the square. I just told her I'm your brother. That woman is really grateful to you, Dean.”

The older brother smiled, proud of himself.

“I'm a hero.”

 

 

**\----------**

Next day, Dean extended his arms triumphatly, leaving the Cardiology Ward and walking to meet his brother.

“No arrhytmia, no anything” he said, taking his jacket from Sam “It seems they may appear, and dissapear again. Isolated incident, they said. But the fainting, it worries them. They say if it happens again they could put a thing on me- something portable, for a whole day, just to be sure”

“You mean a _Holter_?”

“Yeah, exactly, Dr. House... That would be really annoying, after a whole morning of-- weird devices, and wires, here and there...” he stopped for an instant, looking at him dramatically affected “They made me run in a treadmill, Sam!”

Sam laughed while they headed to the elevator.

“I still feel there is something weird going on here” Dean added when they were inside the elevator “I bet this is related to what happened to that boy.”

“Like if he were contagious?”

“Mm- Don't think so, not an attack in my case, my heart didn't stop. But the coincidence is there, it happened shortly after I saved that boy. Too much of a frigging coincidence, I would say. And look at us- we're perfect, the boy and I, nothing to be found.”

“Do you think it may had happened also to other people in that square?”

“Like- a heart attacks outbreak?” Dean snorted “Weird” The elevator opened and the brothers stepped out “We'll have to investigate. I would start asking that boy before we leave. Maybe he saw, heard or- smelled something, before he collapsed”.

Aidan was asleep when the Winchesters arrived. He couldn't remember Dean, but his mother told him who he was, and what he had done. The woman lavished in compliments to the older brother.

“You're making me blush” he joked.

“How are you feeling?” Ms Summers asked “Your brother told me you fainted”

“Yeah, but I'm fine” he said nonchalantly “Fit as a fiddle. Thanks for keeping safe my jacket, by the way.”

She smiled, amused at his composure. _Things are going smooth_ Sam thought. _It won't be difficult to get some clues from her._

“Hey, Aidan- I'm just curious- do you remember what happened?” Dean asked at once, sitting in the bed with him “Anything”.

Sam scowled at his brother. Both hoped the woman won't notice they were very interested; people usually felt awkward at unexpected questions like that. Fortunately, Ms Summers didn't seem bothered and Sam found it easy to soften his brother's lack of tact.

“Listen, Aidan, it's important you remember every details” Sam asked “That way, the doctors may find a lot easier to help you.”

The boy remained silent, thoughtful. Then he didn't hesitate.

“There was a bunch of boys playing at the swings” he told them “Four boys and a girl-- though the girl wasn't paying attention to them. They were playing something about war and ignored her, too”

“Woah, that's sexist” Dean remarked.

“I was so bored at the bakery that I rushed to join their game, but once I was there, only the girl smiled at me” Aidan went on “Then, I-- I can't remember anymore. I just felt something pinching in my chest. It didn't hurt. I heard the boys screaming- and that's all.”

His mother took his hand, holding tears back.

Dean and Sam gazed at each other. They realized that maybe there wasn't anything for them there. Just a sick kid. Anything supernatural.

Maybe, for once, it was just a coincidence.

 _My bollocks_ , Dean thought.

“Just one more thing, Aidan- before you fainted, did you feel a- a weird sensation in your chest? Like if your heart skipped a beat?”Dean asked, hand on his chest.

The boy moved his head.

“No, just pinching.”

Dean sighed.

“Okay- Thanks, Aidan.”

Suspicion finally faded from Dean Winchester's eyes, the only brother who, when they were already in the car, still had doubts about everything being a coincidence.

 

 

 


	4.  The girl in the violet dress

 

Dean had a weird sensation when he entered the motel room.

It was like a soft electrical shock running through his body, making him shudder, it even gave him goosebumps. It reminded him to electric static, he even could feel it crackling in the air. Maybe the electrical fitting was as cheap as the motel was. If any of them suffered a shock trying to switch on the bedside lamp, the manager will see who Dean Winchester was. Well- to be honest, he could ask him for a money refund, it wasn't a good idea to punch motel managers when one was in the most wanted list.

And it was cold, also- jeez, wasn't it? Of course, central heating was asking too much for that price, and it wasn't worth for spending just one night. It was better to be unnoticed: pay, sleep, and leave next morning. The less they saw his pretty most-wanted face, the better.

He threw himself on the sofa, waiting for Sam, who first went to a quick mart to pick some food for that night -Sam had insisted to much going alone so anybody would see his face, they had been too lucky in the hospital but already had risk it too much, but Dean suspected he wanted to go alone to get salads, smoothies and other boring stuff without him complaining. Dean accepted, if he at least brought beers-. They had agreed that if any other kid -or adult- collapsed from some heart problem, they would stay to investigate it. If it didn't happened, they would know if wasn't a case for them, but for the county's best doctors. And they will just leave and go their way, whatever it were.

Once he was sure the motel was, at least, fit to live in, and the most important, safe -the manager didn't even look at him, too focused in a TV program-, Dean headed to the Impala's trunk to pick up their duffle bags, and next to the vending machine at the parking to grab a soda. He didn't notice the young man who was looking at him, nervously, hidden at a near corner.

Dean got a Coke can and took a swig. If Sam was going to bring mineral water and macrobiotic juices or whatever their name were, that machine was going to be his salvation.

 

“This is the life!” he said before he burped sonorously. “Sorry-”

Then, he heard a unknown voice at his back. It sounded monotone, even scared.

“...Bag! Giv'm the bag!”

Dean turned around, and he almost choked on the Coke when he saw the gun. For an instant, he felt pity for the armed fellow: he was even younger than Sam, and he looked desperate. But he was armed, after all, and taking out his own gun wasn't a good idea. Dean raised his hands a little.

“Woah, woah- hey, let's talk, buddy” he said with the most calm voice he could manage to use; being pointed with a gun was not exactly comfortable. “Want money, is that? I will give it to you, if you drop that gun. Deal?”

The boy just kept looking at him with big eyes, breathing heavily, the gun trembling in his hand. _He doesn't look tough enough to fire, even at a bird,_ Dean thought. _But an unintentional discharge is also quite deadly!”_

He felt a shiver. It wasn't the adrenaline surging in his system; it was something different, like a rush of cool air through his spine. He felt a tingling in the centr of his chest.

Then, he saw her, behind the robber. The girl in the violet dress he had seen in the square and later from the Impala.

“Hey- what are you doing here?” he said, in a voice so low it seemed he was speaking to himself.

The robber hesitated, puzzled, and turned on his heels to see the person Dean was talking to. Everything happened in less than a heartbeat: confused by the presence of the girl, but also worried by his own physical integrity, Dean took advantage of the situation to hit the robber from behind, making him drop the gun; he even looked amazed it had worked. While he kicked the gun far from them, he realized the girl wasn't there anymore. Then he felt a presence, at his back. Another shiver gave him goosebumps, the air he expulsed turned into mist.

He turned around, slowly. The girl was behind him. She just has _appeared t_ here.

Their eyes met. Dean gasped when his heart did something weird, again. It seemed to him it stopped for a milisecond, gave a jolt and then started beating too fast- if it could be called beating, because it seemed like it were shaking against his ribs. He felt an oppressive sensation in his chest and he started to cough, breathless. _Fuck-- not this shit again_ , he thought.

The girl watched while he fell on his knees, stunned, until they were at the same eye-level. She was smiling.

Dean saw the robber running away, terrified; he had taken one of their duffle bags. _Damn._ He'd probably thought he was having a heart attack. _Thanks for calling for help,_ Dean thought, bitterly.

Even if his heart was at full gallop, he couldn't feel blood rushing in his veins. The doctor had explained to him why his condition -that one they couldn't detect- was so dangerous: the electrical activity in one of the ventricles would go erratic and crazy, and the heart wasn't able to pump blood efficiently to sustent life. _This is a nice moment to remind myself why and how I 'm dying_ , his stunned brain cried to him. He was starting to feel woozy, numb from the lack of oxygen.

And the girl was smiling.

In his last moment of lucidity, Dean realized what the girl was doing. She was killing him.

Still, while the world surrouding him started to blur and dissapear, Dean Winchester knew that, after all, he was very lucky.

“DEAN!”

His brother Sam rushed into the parking, leaving the groceries bag on a car hood; one of the bottles of mineral water fell and rolled to the floor.

This time, Dean didn't pass out, not completely. For some seconds he only could hear a ringing in his ears, until he realized that Sam was sitting him up. His brother hold his head and forced him to look at him; he was terrified, and Dean felt guilt overwhelming him. Sammy, good Sammy, always concerned. He had even spent the last night at an uncomfortable sofa at the hospital...

“Dean, hey, hey--! Is your heart? You okay?”

 _Oh yeah, fan-freaking-tastic, Sammy_ he tried to say, but he only managed to shake his head before he doubled into a coughing fit.

“It's okay-- just breathe, slowly...”

Dean took some seconds until the urge to cough went away and he could breathe normally. His heart was still racing, but at least it was a real heartbeat, not an anxious, erratic flutter. It was pumping blood, as it was meant to. He could feel it throbbing in his temples with a painful awareness, and the ringing in his ears was now a dull, heavy thumping.

“Did you see her, Sam?” he asked, his voice still strained “The girl...”

“What? Which girl?”

“Okay, you didn't see her...” it not was a question, it sounded like he'd confirmed a suspicion. He was right. The girl was gone.

“I think you should lay down.” Sam adviced.

Fortunately, the manager hadn't noticed anything. Sam took the groceries back and helped his brother to their room, directly into bed. Dean threw himself in it with a sonorous sigh. He pinched his nose between his eyes, trying to relieve a sudden headache, noticing his forehead damped in a cold sweat. What a hard time. He noticed Sam put a hand on his chest, just over his heart.

“I'm okay, I think it remembered how it goes” he said, sitting up slowly. “Sam... It's her, that girl! First I thought she was only nosing around the square when she saw all those people, but...” he laughed “I'm so stupid! That's why nobody noticed her!”

“What're you talking about?” Sam asked, picking a bottle of water. “What girl, Dean?”

“I think she's a ghost. I saw her yesterday, when I saved Aidan's life” he picked the bottle of water his brother offered him and took a gulp. “I saw her again when we were driving, just an instant before the lights went out. I think it was her Sam, he did it somehow. She's a damn ghost! That's why the old man with the newspaper didn't see her, neither the robber in the parking. She is damn spirit! That's why it was so cold when I arrived, and I felt that... electricity in the air. It was her! She has in it for me, Sammy! What the hell have I done to that ghost girl?” he took another long gulp from the bottle “Hey, did you bring beer?”

“So, we have a case” Sam concluded, after his brain processed everything his brother had said so frenetically. “A ghost, probably a vengeful spirit. And... a kid. That's a serious problem.”

Dean shivered. Both of them knew that probably nothing was more dangerous that the ghost of a scared kid, because they usually didn't understand why were they dead -if they knew they were dead, and those were the worst.

“Dean, you said robber before? What do you mean?” Sam asked suddenly, opening a bottle of water for him.

“Oh, yeah. That” Dean cleared his throat, nervous. “I almost forget it, you know,the shock--. Emmm-- we've been robbed. The guy had a gun. He tookone of the duffle bags, it had some hand guns, some toilet stuff--” he cleared his throat again. “... and the EMF meters”.

Sam choked on his water, while Dean's face was that of a kid who awaits to be forgiven after some mischief.

“What?!” Sam cried out when he regained his breath. He ruffled his own hair. “That's great, Dean, just when he have a spirit...”

“We'll handle that later, dude, I'm sure Bobby will get us new ones. Now, let me remind you, there is a little psycho ghost girl roaming free, and she's coming after me!”

“Wait, wait a moment--” Sam interrumpted. “Didn't Aidan say there was a girl in the swings, the only kid there who looked at him, who seemed to be unnoticed by the other kids?”

“Yeah, you're right... But he also said he didn't feel the same thing I felt, that strange jolt in the heart.” Dean concluded. “His heart just-- stopped. That's so weird, even for us. What's that girl, Sam? Some kind of-- 8-year-old Carrie, but dead, with no pyromaniac fits of rage? But instead of stopping my heart with her mind, like she did with that son of a bitch of her mother, she signs it up for a marathon.”

“We'll have to investigate that” Sam said with a tired sigh. “We could ask Aidan about the girl he saw. How she looked like.”

“Good idea. And we could also ask around if somebody had suffered strange heart diseases which get cured miracuosly. It's not a big town, only one hospital, won't take much time.” he shrugged “I think...”

 

**\-------------------------**

Some time later, Dean left the hospital room where Aidan was recovering -he was waiting the tests results- with a big box of chocolates.

“Woah, they were really glad to see me, look what Lucy gave me!” he said. “I'll give you one later. If there is anyone left, they're delicious!”

“Lucy, huh? First name, Dean?” Sam teased him. “You picked up? Well, you're her hero, after all...”

“Nah-- She has a ring.

“Does she? You notice those things?”

“Of course, you don't?”

He tossed a chocolate into his mouth. Sam shook his head with resignation.

“Her husband, he's a sales agent, he's on his way to see the kid.

“Well, what did Aidan said?” Sam asked, not really interested in his brother affairs' familiar life.

“Bad news are, not the same girl” Dean said, his mouth stuffed. “Good news are, Aidan has an admirer. The girl he saw was a brunette in a denim overalls, and the little girl who is obsessed with me is a blonde in a cute violet dress”.

“Maybe she can shift shape?”

“Shapeshifter ghosts? I doubt it...”

“I've asked around and made some interesting discoveries” Sam said. “Another kid suffered an attack last week. He got hospitalized for a simple tonsillectomy and suddenly, a day before surgery, his heart stopped. They never found out why. And there is more. Around a month ago, a girl who was visiting her grandma. She didn't make it. Doctors think she died from the same heart disease her granny had, though she never had symptoms.

“She only attack kids... That makes her fixation on me even weirder” Dean said, licking the remaining chocolate of his fingers.

“Why? Sometimes you're like a overgrown kid...”

“Shut up, Sammy.”

Sam smiled, satisfied it was so easy totease him.

“Maybe she is still around” he said later.

“Maybe... She doesn't seem to be hooked to a single place, though. Street, motel... That will make it difficult to find her-- also, it's really weird for a ghost.”

Sam shrugged.

“It would be difficult, anyway.We don't have our EMF readers.”

“Hey, not again!” Dean complained. “I'm so sorry, Sam, I was too busy trying to prevent that girl of stopping my heart! We'll get another couple, they'd must be sold as junk by now. Don't put more pressure on me” he tossed another chocolate into his mouth.

“Wait” Sam said, ignoring his brother's complains and his not-existent good manners eating. “Maybe that girl did attack Aidan. That's why you saw her near when you reanimated him. Maybe she only shows herself to you, Dean... Maybe, she thinks you're getting on her way and that's why she's going after you?”

“Awesome! That's what I get for saving innocent people” Dean said sarcastically, rising his hands in exageratted fashion.

“We whould return to the motel, try to know more about that girl” Sam proposed. “If she's trying to kill people, she sure had a death which was considered interesting for the newspapers.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Just her reflection

Casey let out a gasp when the Hellish Surgeon buried the chainsaw in the flesh, reaching the bone, spraying his scrubs and his half-covered face with blood. His victim's screams were horrible. Casey turned to the next page, his eyes shining, eager; the hero didn't take long to appear and chop his head off, saving his girlfriend's life, though she would had to live with only one arm from now on. That's soooo cool, Casey thought.  
His mother didn't approve that kind of books, especially at bed time, but he wasn't afraid. Casey never had nightmares, because he knew those stories weren't real. Anyway, his mother wasn't there to tell him off. She had to work at night to pay bills and debts, even though he was at hospital with penumonia. But Casey wasn't afraid of being alone.  
He seemed to sense something and raised his head, startled. His mother, maybe? She could have asked her boss to stay at night with him.  
It wasn't her, but a doctor. Though not the doctor in charge of him since he was hospitalized. This one, he didn't know him.  
Also, there was something odd about him. Something really odd.  
It wasn't only the fact he seemed to be “outplaced” with his surroundings, almost faded, like in a homemade video. Mainly, it was the fact his clothes were stained in blood.  
It stood out, eerily dark, over the typical green tone surgeons used. In the center, near the heart, the fabric was torn and burnt; it looked like a deep black hole. It was like if he had received a point-black shot in his chest.  
Casey blinked, and the surgeon dissapeared. The boy let the book fall over his stomach, his eyes widely open. He looked half terrified and half fascinated, if both feeligns could be simultaneous. He didn't even scream.   
The heart monitor alarm went off, franctic, an instant before it became flat. The nurses who ran to the blue code alarm didn't see the girl in a violet dress who was watching from the door.

 

\---------------------  
“Hey, who are you, pretty boy?”  
Dean smiled and winked an eye to his own reflection, pouring next some toothpaste into the brush.  
It was a worldwide known truth that in a small town everybody knew each other, so he and Sam had agree on going out for a drink, visiting the pub -a place which was the main gossip source, along with queuing at the supermarket-. Also, if he could pick up some nice girl and get laid, the better. Two for one.  
Sam hadn't take that long to get ready -Dean thought it was because he wasn't expecting to get lucky- and was consulting the laptop while waiting for him. Dean could hear the muffled keyboard tapping from the bathroom.  
“Are you done, pretty boy?” he heard Sam ask in a mocking voice. “Thinking about getting laid tonight? Let me remind you we are working.”  
“Almost ready, you found something?” he mumbled, washing his teeth.  
“I haven't found a darn thing. This took forever to pick up a Wi-Fi signal, I don't know what's wrong with this place. Anyway I hope we feel lucky in the pub... Not that kind of lucky, by the way, heartbreaker.”  
Dean shrugged and spit.  
“I will always say it: Nothing like the information superhighway you find among the average, respetable citizens”  
When he raised his head to pick up a towel, he saw her in the mirror, behind him.  
The girl.  
Dean turned around to face her, slowly, trying not to look startled. He barely heard his own voice.  
“You are too young to spy in the boy's restroom, don't you think?”  
The girl tilted his head, like wondering what he meant. Dean took a deep breath, slowly, feeling an odd and urgent tingling in his chest. Though at the moment his heart was beating normally; maybe a little too fast, even a little too hard, but normally. He hoped he would end it all before the girl started again with her dangerous little game; he didn't fancy to test himself on how many supernatural attacks could his heart tolerate before it exploded or something.  
“Deeee-eeeeean...” Sam's voice sang impatiently from the hall.  
The oldest Winchester didn't answer, neither asked for help. If Sam came he could be the victim this time, and he wasn't willing to put his brother in danger. Without moving his eyes from her, he spoke to the girl, softly.   
“Hey, little one... We should talk. Smoothly. No tricks. Up to it?”  
He took two steps forward. Three. His heart was pounding fast, making it difficult to breath. It's not her weird magic, it's you. Stupid, you've done this a million times, just relax, he thought. His heartbeat blowing in his ears was an eerie background music, making clear how afraid he was. He touched the gun he had in his jacket, as to feel safe. Shooting a little girl wasn't exactly ethical, but it was only salt. Also, she was dead already.  
Waiting for the ghost girl to say something, Dean couldn't help but realize there was something different in her eyes. He couldn't be sure, but he would swear it was sadness. She wasn't smiling, that's for sure. For a single moment, the hunter felt in his insides a sickening surge of sadness. He even felt a lump in his throat. What the hell was happening?  
This time, the attack caught him totally off ward.  
It felt like the air were taken out from his lungs with a blow in his chest. The lightbulbs in the sink buzzed and switched on and off, quickly, like if they were trembling. One of them exploded.  
Dean managed to get enough air to shout his brother's name.  
“SAM--!”  
The youngest of the Winchester had already realized something was really wrong when the laptop switched off and the lamp in the sidetable winked. His brother's scream made him ran to the bathroom.  
Dean was bent over in the floor, coughing and panting like if an invisible hand was squeezing his chest. Sam kneeled before him and cupped his head, forcing him to look at him. Dean took hold of his arm, struggling to breathe. His forehead was damped in sweat.  
“Hey, hey, Dean-- Dean! Can you listen?” Sam whispered to him.  
He realized his brother's gaze was fixed somewhere over his shoulder, but when he turned his head, he didn't see anything-- until he looked at the mirror. Because the way she was situated, Sam only could see her back. In the mirror he could see her standing before them, partially hiding his own reflection with his brother in his arms. Her hair, straigth and lifeless, fell through her back. It was that girl in a violet dress that Dean had described.  
Sam felt the pressure in his arm growing weak, and when he looked at Dean he realized his eyes were starting to get out of focus.  
“Hey, hey, no no no-- don't pass out! Dean, stay with me! Stay with me!”  
Sam turned his head into the mirror. The girl was still there, only visible to Sam in the mirror.  
“Stop this! You're killing him!” he yelled at the void of the bathroom. “What do you want from him?”  
Dean let out a muffled moan when Sam made him lay on the floor. He hardly could maintain his eyes open. Sam searched for his heartbeat under his clothes and a cold panic seized him: he didn't feel a proper heartbeat, only spasms. Sam knew there was no pulse, and if he didn't do something quick, he was going to lose him.  
“It's okay, Dean-- it's okay--”   
He started to perform reanimation, massagging his chest, trying to force his heart to leave for some seconds that erratic rhythm. Come on, come on, just a little, he begged in silence; just enough to continue pumping while I try to think what to do. Dean moaned feebly; his half-closed eyes didn't see him anymore. Sam continued with the massage, firmly and rhytmically, though he was terrified.  
“It's okay” he panted “It's okay, bro, just hang in...”  
The remaining lightbulb in the mirror burst out in a swarm of glass and sparkles. Sam felt the hair at the back on his neck staying on edge, a supernatural force coming from where the girl should be-- if he could see her. He barely could hear his brother's struggles for breathe; panicking, he realized that if that girl remained there for one more minute, she will kill him. He pulled Dean's gun out of his pocket with a hand, the other still clutching at his brother's chest, afraid of what could happen if he retired it. He turned, his finger in the trigger...  
But the girl's reflection had dissapeared from the mirror. Sam hesitated for an instant, puzzled. Suddenly, Dean jerked and took a shaky gulp of air, which ended in a coughing fit. Sam leaned over his brother, alarmed.  
“Dean! Dean you okay?”  
The older brother groaned in pain. He took some seconds before he talked.  
“This can't be good for your health, kids--”  
Sam breathed, relieved, and helped him to sit up, his back against the wall.  
“You saw her-- hey, Sammy--?” Dean asked, still woozy. Color was returninf to his face, and when Sam grabbed his wrist Sam felt a steady, normal pulse. Thanks God, he thought.  
“Yeah, I saw her” Sam answered. “Well, only her reflection. Don't move, just rest a little.”  
He headed to the sink and picked up a fresh towel to damp his brother's sweaty face. After some seconds Dean protested and took it from him.  
“Damn it, Sam--” he moaned, impatiently, pressing the towel against his forehead. “Why didn't you talk to her?”  
Sam shook his head in disbelief.  
“I prefered prevent you from dying, Dean.”  
With a long, deep sigh, Dean rested his head against the tiled wall.  
It has been a long day.


	6. A Living Makeshift Spirit Detector

“Dean, look.”

Feeling better, the older brother got up from the bed and headed to the table were Sam had been searching the Internet. The laptop displayed a newspaper page from more or less a month ago. Heading the article, there was a black and white portrait of a young man, smiling, in a lab coat and with a stethoscope around his neck. Dean couldn't help but realize that despite his broad smile his eyes looked sad, like if he were hiding something tragic.

“James Foxter, 38” Sam started. “He was a cardiologist in the local hospital. Foxter commited suicide about a month ago, he couldn't cope with the lose of his little daughter, Ellie. The girl suffered from- guess what.”

“That freaky thing my heart does”

“Bingo. Ventricular fibrilation. Hers was very serious, her father couldn't save her. She died in the operating table.”

Dean puffed like shaken by goosebumps. He took a beer from the fridge and got near Sam again.

“There's no picture of the girl, but I bet she is our little 'heartbreaker'” Sam dared “Every heart attacks took place this last month. It coincides with her death.”

“Do they say how his father killed himself?”

“He locked himself up in his office and shot himself. In the chest. Straight to the heart.”

Dean nodded gloomily, taking a sip of beer.

“Straight to the heart- in every sense. Well, this makes the doctor a very unlikely candidate to help us. Any living relatives we can ask what they did with the girl's body?”

“Foxter was a widower. His girl was the only thing he had left in life” Sam ended with a long, affected breath. Dean's voice sounded too dull.

“Fucking tragic. I'm somehow glad nobody survived to bear this pain.”

Sam winced, closing the laptop with a silent sigh. Dean's sigh on the other hand came out like a exhausted grunt as he sitted in his bed, beer in hand.

“I wonder how we going to find her without the EMF meters. You can't see her, we're not so sensitive to electromagnetism to simply feel her presence... well, except for my poor little heart” he said, finishing his beer.

Sam frowned.

“Hey- wait, that's- I think I have an idea.”

The younger brother rushed to the duffle bag on his bed, fumbling inside until he found a large, thin case. He opened it as he approached his older brother and took out something which look like a watch and some sort of large strap.

“Lucky thing it wasn't in the duffle bag you got robbed” he said with a smile.

Dean arced an eyebrow in surprise.

“A heart rate monitor?” he asked “Like the ones ultra running freaks wear?”

“Yup”

Dean arced his other eyebrow.

“Since when you go running?”

“Early in the morning, when I know you'll wake up late because you've been watching who knows what on TV until the wee hours” he said “Exercise is great to relieve stress. You should try”

“You know what exercise I prefer to relieve stress”

Sam ignored his obscene smirk.

“Pull up your T-shirt”, he demanded.

Dean did as told, carried out by curiosity above anything. Sam fastened the chestband around his chest and put the watch-like device in his right hand, where he wasn't wearing his regular watch.

“Wait, what are you doing, why you put me this? I look like those idiots who wear two watches.”

“Shut up” Sam said, half-smiling. “You know the heart works with electric impulses. Well, some scientists believe that due to that it posses its own electromagnetic energy, different in every person, and it forms some kind of field around us I know it sounds complex, but it has a good scientific base behind. It's said some persons are more sensitive than others to that energy. I'm sure you've heard about people who can't use electrical devices without them failing all the time, or that soft electric shock you feel when you touch somebody."

“You mean, like some kind of bitchy, bad-vibes aura?”

“You may say that. But a thousand times . It can have a ratio of 5 to 12 feet”

“So, our fields are mingling now? Aw, that's so tender, Sam.”

“The thing is...” Sam continued, ignoring his brother's continous jokes “I think somehow that girl has found a way to her EMF to yours, more specifically, the one your heart creates. I know it sounds weird as hell, but that could explain why only you can see her, why you suffer a similar arrythmia and why I don't feel a damn thing. I'm not really sure, but- Well, it makes sense. I think.”

Dean nodded.

“Sometimes your huge brain scares me”

“Well, it's only a theory... But we have no EMF meters, and we haven't time to find them, so this is our only solution right now” Sam concluded, finishing adjusting the chestband “What is pretty clear is that girl, whatever the reason, has a connection with your heart. When your heart rate becomes unsteady and the alarm goes off, we'll know she's around. Think about the hr meter like a- huh- makeshift spirit detector.”

“Well, your makeshift detector helluva stings” Dean protested, loosing the pressure in his chest.

“Hey wait, don't move. I have to set it up” Sam said, adjusting the band again near his heart and taking his right wrist to use the sensor, a franctic beep as he entered the data. “I create a new profile- max heart rate... well you aren't exactly fit so let's say this... Done.” the sensor made a sound and a number appeared in the screen; 72. Dean stared at it. “I hope it works” Sam said. “Though I'm afraid we'll have to wait for our little girl to know it. Don't remove it, okay? This is very important, Dean. You're now our- 'living makeshift spirit detector'”

“Your guinea pig, you mean” Dean remarked, grumpy, trying to loose the strap again. Sam slapped his hand (“Ouch!”, Dean let out) and pulled down his t-shirt.

\---------------------  
They arrived to the pub a couple of minutes later to find good ambience and good music, and a lot of people. That was the best thing in their line of job. They took two sits in the bar, where Sam was able to maintain a conversarion with one of the waiters. He told him they were two writers who were doing a travel guide on the sweetest, nicer towns in America. Mentioning the delicious pie they baked only once a year and remarking once and once again how delicious it was, made the waiter loose his tongue.

“This is a very nice little town” he told them, handing free beers -to Dean's bliss-. It never happens anything. Well, that incident with that kid in the square yesterday was probably the most exciting thing since that doctor shot himself in his hospital”

“Shot? Woah, how it happened?” Sam asked, pretending he didn't know in hope he could find out something that wasn't in papers.

“His daughter died while he operated on her” the waiter explained, gloomily. “Who could bear wuch pressure? The poor man. He used to come here very night, specially after his wife died. No alcohol. Only a tea. He used to sit in the place where-”

A voice interrumpted them. It was one of the waittress.

“Peter, can you come?”

A young woman required his presence from the other side of the bar, a phone in her hand. She was pale and looked anxious, like if she had received bad news”

“Excuse me, buddy, we'll continue later” the waiter told Sam.

While he waited, Sam realized that Dean has lost his gaze somewhere at the other side of the pub. He seemed to be out of breath. Suddenly the sensor alarm went off and Sam jerked, spilling his beer all along the bar.

“Dean! It's her?” he said in a strained whisper, taking his brother's arm and looking around “Where is she? Are you okay? We better go out, here we can't... Dean?”

Sam looked to where his brother was looking to find a stunning girl with her eyes fixed on his brother in a obscene manner. Dean arced an eyebrow and smiled at her; the girl looked away with a smirk. Sam groaned in disbelief.

“Come on, Dean...!”

“The way she looked at me, Sammy...!” Dean puffed, removing his collar shirt in a pompous manner “She just turned me on like mad-”  
“Dean, we said no chicks today.” Sam said firmly, switching off the alarm in embarassment “We're not going to split up, and obviously I'm not going to be in the same room while you-”

Dean raised his hands as to defend himself.

“Hey, we agree on that”.

“Anyway, how're you going explain to her why're you wearing a heart rate meter?”

“Who knows, maybe she's turned on by those things” Dean said, a silly smile in his lips “Or we can just- you know, a quickie, clothes on, straight to the-”

Sam raised his hands.

“Too much information! I don't wanna know, keep your Kamasutra to yourself”

His brother smirked. Sam frowned.

“Dean, we've got to stick together. If that girl appears and you ended like a ragdoll in the floor, you won't be able to fight back”.

“Yeah, yeah. I know- Farewell, piercing gaze girl” he took a long sip from his beer, like a toast in honor of a deceased.

Suddenly, they heard a sob. At the other side of the bar, the waiter who Sam had asked about the town was hugging and patting the back of the waitress who had picked up the phone call.

“I know your son's going to be okay, just go to the hospital with him.” they heard him say “I'll tell the boss”  
They saw the girl flee away, her apron still on her waist.

“Heard what I heard?” Sam asked.

“You can say that”

Sam couldn't found out much more. A waitress absent, his “news provider” was too busy so they couldn't go on with the interview “for their book”. He only could toom from him that the waitress' son had just had a heart attack… and he was only 8 years old. Bingo, Sam thought, through his mouth uttered “I'm really sorry”. They didn't talk again about Foxter's suicide. Not that there were anymore to add to that.

 

 

 

 

When the brothers arrived to their motel room, it was past midnight. They decided they will take a couple of hours to sleep and will go to hospital early in the morning in their inspector suits, to find out something about the waitress' son. It wasn't a good idea to go already, even if they went “suited-up”, because the mother would probably be too anguished to talk. They couldn't lose a potential witness so soon.

Exhausted, Dean collapsed into bed, still full clothed, but Sam didn't dare to go to sleep yet. If the girl appeared and he missed it, it could be too late to stop her from damaging his brother again. While they tried to know why she attacked her, the best he could do is protect him from her.

  
Sam started to feel cold. He wasn't sure anymore it was the time of the year or if maybe it was another thing. Unsettled, he look to Dean. He semeed to be sleeping; in the dim light, he noticed his eyes were closed and his chest was swaying up and down, slowly. Carefully, to not wake him up, Sam turned to him the hand where Dean was wearing the sensor. 59 bpm and steady. His brother was deep asleep. It'd been a long day for him, after all. A robbery, two weird heart failures and being chased by a little psycho ghost girl must be exhausting, Sam thought as he covered his brother with a thin but warm wool blanket.

He came back to the armchair and tried to put an order to every thought in his head. Maybe Ellie, in the anxious, vengeful confusion death awakens, was trying to kill those kids with what had killed her? Then, why those kids didn't suffered from arrhytmia like his brother? If Dean was just in the wrong place at the wrong moment, why hadn't he suffered a heart attack, like the kids? It was their age? It was any other thing?

Suddenly Dean took a deep breath through his nose and tossed in bed, interrumpting Sam's thoughts. When he leaned over his brother, he saw his eyelids moving, and his heart rate had gone up to 89. There was no reason to be afraid: he could just be dreaming.

Or maybe she was still there.

Instead of waking him up, the younger Winchester decided to take first a look around, his senses sharp in the dim light of the bed lamp. That girl only showed herself to Dean, but if he was lucky enough he could, at least, perceive where she was and scare her off. He thought about pouring salt on a ratio wide enough to protect his brother from her electromagnetic field, but he thought twice: if she was already there with them, he would trap her inside... with them. That's wasn't a good idea.

Sam decided to explore the room, at the same time keeping an eye on any possible variations in his brother's breathing. He took out a little hand mirror from his pocket; after all, he could only see the ghost girl through a looking-glass, and he had found one in his bedside table. The hunter went across the room, steadying his breathing to not lose track of his brother's checking everything through the small mirror. He entered the bathroom again, carefully, gun in one hand and flashlight in the other -they hadn't told the manager about the lightbulbs: the less he saw Dean's most-wanted face, the better-. But he found nothing. No cold spots, no goosebumps, no creepy little girl reflections in the mirror.

He got near his brother's bed again to find him still asleep, now snoring softly, his pulse down to 65. If it was a dream, it was peaceful again. If it was the girl, she wasn't there anymore.

Sam Winchester spent the rest of the night sitting at his brother's bed, salt-shots gun still in hand. Dawn light didn't take long to get its way through the half-closed window.


	7. Room 109

 

 

Dean had the strangest of dreams.  
While he was taking a shower, his head only brought fragments back to him, images which seemed huge and overwhelming, like if he were an spectator in a cinema theatre or he had just shrunk down to the size of a kid. The number 109 in a hospital door, a fuss of voices and shouting over a beeping, continuous sound; but the strangest thing was a surgeon with a bloody hole in his chest. That image was the most confusing and distant of all them, like an hallucination inside a dream- if that made sense at all.  
He hadn't been afraid, neither had felt that oneiric terror which would wake him up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat -adding now the annoying device Sam had put on him, complaining about his sudden tachycardia-. He just had felt... sad. Devastated. He was overcome by an enormous, overwhelming feeling of sadness which still strained his chest when he woke up, though it faded away very quickly.  
Dean knew very well the rest of dream images would fade away throughout the morning until they were no more than a numb feeling, just the remains. It always happened with dreams- well, ordinary dreams. He didn't tell Sam, who sometimes had premonitions. Dean was sure in his own case it had been only a stupid dream.  
The temperature and pressure of water were great, fortunately. He got out of the shower, put a towel on and adjusted again the chestband around his chest, making sure it captured correctly his heartbeat before putting his shirt on. Sam hadn't had a bad idea, after all, but they couldn't be sure if it worked until the ghost girl appeared again... And to be honest, though he was as eagerly to solve that case as his brother, he wasn't sure if he wanted to check how well it worked.  
They arrived to the hospital after a quick breakfast and a plain black coffe -Sam had taken a double expresso out of neccessity, though he never told Dean he had been awake all night-. Disguised as Publict Health Inspectors, they wore their best: dark grey, simple tie.  
They decided to use the same names they used when Dean had been hospitalized; somebody would recognize them, that was sure, and it that case, it was better to say they were brothers and worked together that trying to explain why they were identical to the patient and companion who had been there a couple of days ago. Pure chance made them met the same doctor who had taken care of Dean.  
“Wait- You two were here the other day-” he looked at Dean from top to bottom “You were admitted to the Cardiology Ward, possible ventricular arrythmia.”  
“Huh- yeah, exactly” he confirmed. “Astonishing memory, taking into account you must have an awful lot of patients. Doctor... huh...”  
“Birch”, Sam whispered slyly.  
“Birch, right?”  
“Good guess”  
“We're inspectors Allman and Allman, from Public Health” Sam said, handing his license badge to her; Dean did the same. “Can we talk to someone- you, for example?”  
“Sure” the doctor confirmed, examining the cards. “That's funny, the Allman brothers. My favourite song is Ramblin' Man.” she smiled broadly. The brothers feared she didn't believe them, but she went on. “Brothers and inspectors who work together, right?”  
“Yeah, Health inspection is, huh- family business” Dean said with a smile. “Kids who are meant to follow their father's steps- You know how it works.”  
“Why you didn't tell you were inspectors?” she inquired, giving back their badges.  
Sam realized his brother was building up that smile he used to win people over, specially the oppossite sex. Moreover, if they were attractive like doctor Birch, it could develop into a personal matter.  
   
“We were on a leave. I was a normal citizen in need of a quick and efficient medical service, which, I must say, you provide perfectly.” Dean said, mellow.  
“I see” she said; according to her tone, Sam suspected she was aware of his brother's intentions. “How's your heart, 'Mister inspector'?”  
“Peachy” Dean said, amused. “I think you were right in the end, and it was all stress. Being inspector can be, you know- overwhelming.”  
“One has to relax from time to time, mister Allman” she said, winking an eye. Dean drew a smirk.  
“Well, maybe you can, you know- help me with that” he said, taking a card off his chest pocket and offering it to her. “This is my personal number, for personal matters. Call me if you know how could I get rid of stress. Oh- I'm going in a leave again tonight.”  
She smiled- before taking the card to put it back in his pocket. Sam tried not to laugh when he realized his brother seemed to lose heart, hurt in his “foolprof” charming.  
“What can I do for you?”  
“We are aware that a few kids had suffered heart attacks during this last month” Sam said. “It's not something common, as you may already know. We're performing a investigation, it may have to do with genetic diseases or something in the environment, some kind of toxic substance, or medicine. We're just starting to put our finger on it. What can you tell us about it? Is there something out of the ordinary?”  
“Mr Allman”, she crossed her arms “You would be horrified at the amount of kids who die waiting for a new heart, or at the number of them who spend half their lives here with some heart disease. Those are around a 80% of cases in the Pediathrics Ward, we have to move some of them to a bigger hospital. Sometimes those diseases won't show up until they start to grow up. They are ver common, unfortunately”.  
“Yeah, but what's not that common is that you don't find any disease, or reason, behind the heart attack. Right?” Dean pointed out. She barely looked at him, but she answered calmly.  
“It's true that a cardiac disease so sudden and potentiallly deadly is not something common... But it happens. I'm sure all these cases have no relation.”  
“We know, doctor. But the department wants to make sure” Sam insisted, mellowly. “We already have parents asking questions. We don't want panic and paranoia to spread in schools, you already know how this works.”  
The doctor let out a sigh. According to her expression, Sam realized playing the worried parents card had worked. It always did. Sometimes it was better that play the tough, irresistible guy, like Dean did.  
“All right, our last case is from last night, around 9pm. Casey Ferguson, a nine years old boy who had been admitted with pneumonia a few days ago. It's not rare to have cardiac complications with a pulmonar disease, but if you want to be sure, you can talk to the mother. They are in room 109. Maybe you could convince parents this is not related to the other cases, none of them are, to be honest- Meanwhile I'll make copies of their medical histories, we'll meet at my office later to talk about them.”  
“Thank you, doctor” Sam said, taking a step back.  
But Dean didn't make a move to leave. He just stayed there, looking at nowhere in particular.  
Room number 109...  
Sam's voice brought him back to reality.  
“Hey! You okay?”  
—“Yeah, I'm okay-” he mumbled. “It's just- exhaustion. Let's go, brother. Thank you, doctor Birch”.  
“Take care, Mr. Allman. I don't like that color in your face” as she left, she winked an eye at him. “We'll talk about relaxation techniques, some other day”.  
“We'll be lost without me, dear brother” Dean said, his eyes still on her as she dissapeared at a corner.  
“Shut up”  
“Jealous, huh?”  
Sam left for the corridor as the only answer.  
“So... it was around 9pm” Dean said when they were far enough.  
“Yup. Just some instants before that ghost girl showed up in the motel's bathroom” Sam pointed out.  
“Yeah, she's been really busy”.  
A beepping noise interrupted him and Sam gave a start.  
“Hey, man, it's okay. Just my watch. Ten o'clock” Dean said nonchanantilly, showing it to him.  
When they reached to the room, they found Mrs. Ferguson sitting besides her son. He didn't seem to be in a coma, but he was sedated. He had an oxygen cannula in his nose. The cardiac arrest had weakened his system already strained because of pneumonia, worsening his condition, so the doctors would probably take hours to wake him up... maybe days. Sam and Dean didn't know how much time they had before the ghost girl attacked other children.  
“Mrs Ferguson?”  
She raised her head slowly to them. She didn't have the eyes of someone who had been crying, but the ones of someone who had been awake all night.  
“You were last night in the pub, didn't you? I saw you before I left”  
“Huh, yeah-” Sam said, taking out his badge to show her “Yeah, we were having a drink on our leave. We are inspector Allman, and Allman, from the Public Health department. We are asking some questions to the progenitors of all children who had been admitted lately due to heart problems. Nothing serious, don't be afraid. It's just- routine.  
She nooded.  
“Yeah, of course... Please, sit down”.  
Sam took a chair, but something ekse has called Dean's attention. The older brother pick up a book from the bedside table and showed it to Sam with a face half way between admiration and disgust. It was the typical book they could find in Gas stations and that he not so secretly loved to read. In the cover of the book, a surgeon covered in blood was attacking someone with a chainsaw, everything bathed in that gloomy, cheesy atmosphere so characteristic from B-movies and novels. Even the title was written in blood spatters. Annoyed, Sam asked him to sit down with a slight gesture.  
But Dean had lost himself in the book cover, his brother's voice a distant white noise while that weird feeling French named deja vú flooded his brain. Green scrubs, darkened with blood spatters...  
Dean felt his heart missing a beat. At first he feared the ghost girl could be there, but then he realized that reaction was only a bad feeling, like when one suddenly remembers something awful that had completely forgotten... and that surgeon was like the one in his dream. Except for the chainsaw, of course.  
The older Winchester looked up when Sam was already saying goodbye to Mrs. Ferguson; his little brother was looking at him with certain nervousness and asked to follow him with a slight movemente of the head. They left the room and Sam approached Dean while they walked along the long corridor.  
“You okay?” he whispered, a bit of irritation mixed with worry in his voice. “You just stayed there like miles away, and didn't say a word. Even Mrs. Ferguson was puzzled. I was lucky he didn't suspected.”  
“Yeah, is just- I had a weird dream last night. It just came to my mind like- a flash.”  
“Yeah?”  
“I dreamt with an hospital room, exactly like the one we visited now, and the doctors and nurses were- they were resuscitating a boy who could perfectly had ben Casey Ferguson.”  
He didn't talked about the number in the door, neither about the surgeon covered in blood; after all, it was only part of the cover of that book, probably hidden in his subconscious after a quick trip to a gas station and brought back under a weird oneiric filter. But, how could he know that book was there? What about the number of the room? There was only one explanation left... and he didn't like it at all.  
— So now I'm starting to get... premonitions, like you? —he asked his brother, half-joking, but he felt his mouth had gone dry and his heart was uncomfortably pounding hard.  
“It wasn't a premonition” Sam stated, uncomfortable. “That boy was attacked before midnight. You dreamt about something that had already happened. By the way, regarding the chat with Mrs. Ferguson while you were in dreamland... nothing new. Casey doesn't have a heart disease. We have another attack from our little ghost girl.”  
“Hey, Sam. Do you think that dream I had, could... could be her, too?”  
“Well, huh- didn't showed herself last night, apparently. I was watching” Sam told him. “You tossed a bit in your sleep, that's true, but your pulse was normal. Although, after knowing about your dream- I think it could be her, somehow.”  
“So she got inside my head, and put a dream there, like a memory?”  
“Maybe. Spirits usually do that to ask for help, or just to torment their victims.”  
Dean nodded, he seemed relieved.  
“That's good to know, at least a memory can't kill me. Well, theorically.”  
“So... I'm sorry to dissapoint you, but it wasn't a premonition” Sam said ironically.  
“Dissapoint me? Au contraire!” Dean said, his best cynical smirk on; he pat his brother's shoulder. “I prefer you get stuck with that premonition stuff all by yourself, mrs Arquette-”  
“Shut up”, Sam grunted, walking faster; Dean's smirk grew half an inch.  
“What use has that, anyway?” Dean asked, levelling his brother's pace. “It would be more useful she showed what's she going to do, no what she already did”.  
“I know, but if spirits did what living beings wanted, our job would be a hundred times easier”.  
“Touché.”  
“She must be really confused. And scared. Despite of what she seems to be doing to those kids.”  
Dean didn't say a thing. Everything was already too complicated to try to explain to Sam that he had, somehow, been there when Casey had the close call. Now he realized it had been like if he saw it through the ghost girl eyes, two feet and a half from the floor.  
While he heard Sam saying they should look for someone who had met the Foxters, Dean started to feel that familiar but unwelcome tickling inside his chest.  
The heart monitor alarm went off. Dean stopped dead and covered the watch-like device with his hand. His face went pale.  
“What's now, one of the nurses has a good ass?” Sam joked.  
But he didn't find Dean by his side. He was a few steps behind, and Sam didn't like the expression in his face.  
“Great, not now-” a coughing fit interrupted him in the middle of the sentence and he leant against the wall.  
Sam got to Dean and looked around, restless; some nurses and orderlies were looking at them from the corner of their eyes.  
“Hey. You okay?”  
Dean shook his head; he was breathing shallowly, his eyes fixed on the end of the corridor. Sam couldn't see anything, but the ceiling lights above the place his brother was looking at started to flicker.  
“Is she there?”  
“Yeah. She's there. Not now, Sammy-”  
“Dean, try to calm down, you're too nervous-”  
“Really, genius? I'm aware of it, thank you!” he panted out.  
It was then when they felt the abrupt descent of temperature, like somebody opened a fridge in their way.  
“She's getting near, Sam-” Dean whispered, breathless. He coughed again, a hand clutching at his chest. Sam put his palm near to check his heart; he still could feel a franctic heartbeat, but he knew soon it will be only a feeble shaking.  
Sam hold his brother's arm, lights flickering behind them as they ran away. Some hospital workers were startled, others were looking for someone from maintenance. Sam took a glimpse of the spirit of Ellie Foxter reflected on a bright chrome-steel instrumental trolley. She walked towards them, slowly, like a scared animal.  
“We have to get out here”  
They managed to reach the restrooms among the confusion of voices and got inside, locking the door behind them. It seemed there wasn't nobody in the toilets, but Sam made sure before he took out a small rock salt container and started to pour it in front of the door. Dean had staggered to the wall and sit there, clutching at his shirt, trying to take deep breaths; his brow was soaked in sweat.  
Then, the alarm stopped. Dean sighed in relief and Sam approached him.  
“Dean- we must know what she wants. She wants something from you”.  
“Yeah, Sam” he grunted. “I'll have a nice chat with her, while she tries to makes my heart to explode” the sarcasm was bitter and obvious, and Sam lowered his gaze.  
“I know, it's not-” he pat his shoulder. “But listen, Dean, this works, it detected her even before you saw her. Even before he was near us. You can use it to know where is she, far enough to not be affected. I'm with you. If things turn out bad, I'll scare her. Okay?”  
Dean grunted, and Sam made a “yeah” out of that, though putting his brother in danger was starting to be a bad idea. Before he could reconsiderate and go for a plan b, mirror lights switched on. Sam felt a shiver and under his hand he felt another one shaking his brother. Temperature had gone down a few degrees. Dean looked at Sam terrified as soon as the heart monitor alarm went off again.  
She was there.  
Sam knew it was late to try to talk to her, as his brother was already having another fit. The younger brother took of his gun, slowly, holding his breath, aware of the slightest movement in the mirrors surface. His own pulse seemed to want to compete with his brother's.  
“It's okay, Dean. Hang on there. You see her?”  
Dean shook his head, eyes shut closed. He gave a start when he opened them-  
“SAM!”  
His brother raised his gaze in time to see the girl's reflection behind them in one of the mirrors. Like if Dean's scream had scared her, she took a step back and the gun flew, literally, from Sam's hand, like attracted by a giant magnet. It flew for several feet, banging against one of the toilet's door. Fortunately, it didn't went off.  
A lightbulb burst off. Dean moaned and fell forward, cluthing at his chest. Sam hold him so he won't hit the floor and made him lay on the cold blue-colored tiles. He looked at the wrist sensor, which was starting to fluctuate in an insane way, up and down: 65, 150,40, 130... Horrified, Sam realized the device couldn't register such a chaotic rhtyhm. If it went on for some more minutes, his brother's heart would stop.  
“Don't move, Dean, I'm getting help-”  
He untied his tie to help his breathing and when he was about to get up, Dean hold him firmly by his arm, scratching, searching, until he hold his hand. His brother's was cold and trembled, but it was gripped around his wrist so fiercely that Sam grimaced in pain. Dean has his eyes open, but he wasn't looking at him, neither at nothing Sam could see. He wasn't unconscious- and that was what scared him the most.  
His voice sounded like someone who is talking in his dream.  
“You can't do anything- daddy- it's too late”  
“What...? Dean! Dean, listen to me.”  
Cold grew up in intensity and Sam felt his neck's hair stanting in edge. The lights flickered above their heads and in the sinks, all faucets turned on at the same time with such violence the water dipped the floor. Sam barely couldn't hear his brother's voice in the midst of the water running noise.  
“You can't- it's too late-”  
Sam was trying to find the girl in the middle of the mist forming in the room. He was leant over Dean, like if he tried to protect him from a further attack of that invisible force. The heart monitor alarm continued its franctic beeping. Sam was yelling his brother's name, but Dean won't listen. Sam felt his body was tight, numb, like if he were suffering an excruciating pain. That in his eyes, it were tears?  
The water flowing started to slow down, and the lights went off. Sam felt his brother's hand hold off his arm. His body relaxed abruptly, his eyelids closed, his head fell to one side.  
Before he could react, Sam was aware of the silence surrounding them. Water wasn't running, and the heart monitor alarm wasn't beeping.  
“Dean...?”  
Sam felt everything sank under his feet; the dizzying fit was too sudden he was about to fell forward. Hand trembling, he took the heart sensor watch and he had to fight off another wave of dizzyness, this time pure relief. It was registering a pulse. His brother just had fainted.  
Sam had barely touched his face when Dean came to, startled, like awakening from a nightmare. He tried to sit up but Sam hold him.  
“Hey. Dean, it's okay, it's over.”  
Alarm had gone off again, this time due to shock; Sam felt his brother trembling like a leaf beneath the palm he had in his back.  
  “You okay?”  
Dean looked at him, still shocked; he wasn't sure of where he was. After a while he let himself fall forward with a deep sigh. He grunted, annoyed at the continuous beep-beep- from the alarm.  
“I hate that thing, Sam...”  
Sam breathed with relief. He was simply Dean again. Then he took a glimpse at the mirrors. They were all covered in mist from the hot water, no sign of the ghost girl.  
Dean closed his eyes, exhausted. He was still breathing heavily, but his heart rate had started going down. Alarm fell silent when it reached 140, but Sam didn't let himself rest until it went down 90.  
“You are okay, you sure?”  
“Yeeeeeeah, I'm fine.” Dean complained, making a gesture to get rid of Sam. He rub his eyes and looked at his fingertips, stunned. “What the hell, I was crying?”  
“You don't remember anything?” Sam asked. “You were- like in another world. Saying things with made no sense. Then you fainted.” he put his hair back with a nervous giggle. “You gave me quite a fright-”  
“I... Yeah-w- wait” he mumbled, confused. “Well- I don't know what I fucking said, but I- I was scared” he scofled “Gosh, I was so damn scared. That's why I was crying?” Dean seemed more puzzled about the idea that about what had happened.  
“Scared? Scared of... what?”  
Dean let his head fell back, exhaling a long sigh.  
“I don't know... I'm beat. No pun intended. What did I say?”  
“It's too late, daddy, nothing can be done” Sam repeated. “You- you weren't yourself, Dean, it was like if something was using you to transmit a message...”  
Dean shook his head, looking utterly confused.  
“'Daddy?' I-I... I don't know. I can't remember a thing.”  
Dean made a movement as trying to get up, and Sam helped him get to his feet. Trying to fight a general weariness which turned his muscles to jelly, Dean approached the sink and wet his face and the back of his neck.  
“Hey. Dean.”  
The oldest Winchester raised his head and met his brother's blurry reflection in the mirror. He realized Sam was staring at something which seemed to be in the glass itself.  
In the steam covering the mirror surface, it had appeared a word written in a clumsy, childish caligraphy. The last character was lost, unfinished, as interrupted in the middle of th"

 


End file.
